


Should Have Said Something Sooner

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Sam, Community: spnkink_meme, First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. Dean reads fanfic. We all know what happens from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Have Said Something Sooner

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spnkink-meme.

It's not like he set out to read these things. No. Definitely not. He just happens to be curious after learning his entire life story has been written into books and splayed across the 'net. And every link leads to one -- or more, usually more -- of these...stories. They're mostly written porn really. Sometimes he comes across visuals. Actually, the first time he finds one of those that's when he realises there's something seriously, seriously wrong with him.  
  
Like the fact his cock starts growing heavy behind his jeans.  
  
And, okay, maybe this isn't a  _new_  thing. Maybe Dean has been straining his ear against the bathroom door for years, trying to catch even the slightest flicker of sound from his brother. Listening to the bed beside him, the rustle of sheets, the soft hitch of breath Sam makes just before...  
  
There is something seriously, seriously wrong with Dean.  
  
Doesn't stop him from reading.

 

* * *

 

It's two months later he decides he can't keep doing this.  
  
He watches Sam constantly. The way he walks, the way he smiles, the way he's constantly pissed off at Dean because Dean is always on his laptop (and deletes the history, which had "very important demon hunting information, you asshat - get your own computer for porn").  
  
Two months. That's long enough.  
  
Sam's gone out to get them dinner -- burgers if he's being nice, Subway if he's being a dick -- and Dean just decides. Right then and there.   
  
He's going to try and fuck his brother.  
  
He won't do it if Sam pushes him away. Won't ever,  _ever_  talk about it again if Sam shows the slightest bit of hesitation. But he has to try, has to know. Has to believe those sideways looks Sam gives that make his stomach flip over mean something. Anything.  
  
There's lube, and he even considers fucking  _candles_  before mentally kicking himself for being so stressed. Then mentally kicks himself again, because he's about to fuck his brother. There's no being  _prepared_  for that.  
  
When Sam comes through the door again, Arby's bag in his hand, Dean just goes for it.

He walks up to Sam. And kisses him.  
  
Sam makes a sound, something cross between a squeak and a protest, but Dean raises his hands to Sam's face, cups either side of his jaw, and brings Sam down so the position is easier, better. And it's another second before he feels Sam's lips move.  
  
And yeah. Fuck yeah.  
  
Sam's mouth is wet and warm and opens for him when Dean runs his tongue along Sam's lips. Opens enough that Dean can find his brother's tongue, and it's like every one of those wincest cliches he read.  _Fireworks_ ,  _explosions_ , and the taste of Sam. All Sam. Maybe the slightest trace of coffee on the inside of his cheek.  
  
Sam pulls back, gets out a broken, "What are you doing?", before Dean pushes him. Pushes with his hands, his legs, his mouth, getting Sam onto the bed. Because Sam is still kissing him. Still tasting his mouth. And this...this is going better than Dean could ever imagine.  
  
They make it to the bed, somehow. Dean doesn't know how. His brain has stopped working with all the blood pooling in his cock. He feels almost light-headed, coated in everything Sam. Everything his  _brother_  and it feels nowhere near as bad as it should. Nowhere near.  
  
"Gonna fuck you," Dean says into Sam's mouth. "Gonna be so good."  
  
And then Sam keens up into his touch and Dean's seriously close to losing it. He's jerked off to this fantasy (and other people's fantasies. Jesus Christ that is fucking weird) so many times and now it's real. Under his fingers and mouth and body. Sam's cock against his cock and he wants to feel it. Bare. All of Sam. Needs it so badly he doesn't know how he's gone thirty years without.  
  
There's no protest from Sam as Dean pulls at his shirt. Pliant arms, lifting when Dean moves, even though it's awkward because Dean refuses to move his lips. Refuses to stop kissing Sam because he's scared that, if he does, this won't be real. But he has to pull away to get Sam's shirt off, to touch just skin. Like fire, warming his fingertips.  
  
"Sam," he says, like he can't quite believe it. And he can't. "Sam. Sam."  
  
"Right here," Sam whispers against his lips. "C'mon, Dean. Want this."  
  
Dean wants it too. More than he's ever wanted anything. He attempts to undo Sam's belt, but doesn't even realise how much his hands were shaking until he needs them to maneuver buttons. Sam smiles up at Dean, covers his hand, and guides him. Dean is just amazed that Sam go do that without looking. Can slip out of his belt, yank down his fly, and press Dean's hand against his hard cock.  
  
Wow.  
  
Apart from his own, Dean hasn't felt anyone else's. But if he knew it was like this...warm and solid and making Sam let out a low whine in the back of his throat. Dean kisses it the rest of the way out, following with more little sounds, a gasp and a moan. Then Dean has to let go, because it'll be over too quickly. No way he wants that. Wants this to last.  _Needs_  this to last.  
  
He pulls back and Sam lets out an honest-to-God whimper. Loud in the room, soft in reality. "Not going anywhere," Dean says, and tugs at Sam's jeans. He pulls them over Sam's knees and throws them to the floor. "Staying right here."  
  
Sam's cock is fully hard, curving upward, and Dean has to touch it again and again. Rolling his palm over the head, grinning when Sam lets out a rough sound in his throat. When Dean lowers his mouths and sucks, just once, Sam's hips buck upward.  
  
"Easy," Dean says, pulling off. "Not yet."

ean leans across Sam, brushing their chests together, and grabs the bottle of lube. Everything he's learnt about this comes from those stories he's spent hours reading. The rest, he decides he'll figure out as he goes. If Sam's reactions are anything to go by, he's gonna get a chance to practice and practice and practice.  
  
"Gonna fuck you," Dean says right by Sam's ear, and it sends shivers down his own spine. "Gonna be so good."  
  
He sits back between Sam's legs and flicks the cap on the bottle, pouring out the substance over his fingers, rubbing them together, warming it. When he bought it in the drugstore he couldn't stop blushing at the cashier, but then just thought  _fuck it_. It's not like he'll ever see her again, and it's definitely not as if she knows he's gonna be using it to fuck his baby brother.   
  
That thought does things to Dean, making heat coil in his stomach. He reaches out with lube-sticky fingers and circles Sam's rim. Sam gasps and pushes against Dean's finger.  
  
"Good?" Dean asks.  
  
Sam nods, wordless.  
  
Another slow circle, another gasp, and Dean presses his finger in. Sam makes a sound, deep in the back of his throat, and Dean leans down to swallow it. Wants everything Sam can give him. Every sound, every movement. Dean slowly adds another finger and this time Sam groans out-loud. Dean moves them, in and out. Pressing, twisting. Listening as Sam makes an array of sounds from groans to moans to gasps. Perfect, all of them, and Dean know how he's gone thirty years without.  
  
"More," Sam says. He reaches out a hand and clasps Dean's arm. "C'mon Dean. Want it all."  
  
Dean twists his fingers again and Sam brings his hips off the bed. This...this much power. Watching Sam like this. Dean reaches down with his free hand and presses against his own hard-on. "You sure? Gotta tell me if it hurts."  
  
Sam nods and his fingers clench harder. "Yeah. Yeah. Just...just come on."  
  
He can't argue with that. Dean pulls his fingers away and goes for his own jeans instead, pulling them down quickly, and then starts running his hands along his cock. It's spurting pre-come, wet all the way down the length. He's never been this turned on. Never.  
  
"This, Sammy?" Dean asks, a little breathless. "You want this in you?"  
  
Another nod, and this time Sam traps his bottom lip between his teeth. Dean doesn't think he can even talk, and that's so hot Dean doesn't even have words. He has to let go of his cock or he's gonna explode. And he can't do that yet. No way.  
  
"Yeah?" He asks.  
  
"Yeah," Sam gets out. His voice sounds far away.  
  
Dean pushes at Sam's knees, spreading his legs further. Sam goes with it easily. Dean can't believe it. Can't believe he's gonna get to do this. He spreads more lube along his cock, and then moves forward, lines himself up. He finds Sam's eyes, makes sure he can't see anything close to hesitation or regret. He knows he can't do it if he finds even a trace. Could never do that to Sam. But Sam's eyes are clear, wide, trained on Dean. And there's so much love and fucking devotion in them that Dean thinks he can't even breathe.  
  
"God..." he says.  
  
Sam smiles, encouraging, and Dean just goes for it.

Slowly, though, because he doesn't want to hurt Sam. Pressing just the head of his cock inside and Sam makes the strangest combination of sounds Dean's ever heard. At first he thinks it might be pain, but then he realises it's just  _Sam_. Just his brother in the most perfect state of bliss and Dean gets this. Gets to hear it and feel it.  
  
"So good," he finds himself saying. "Jeez, Sam -- fuck."  
  
Sam's so tight, so hot. Nothing like Dean's ever felt before, and he wants more of it immediately. Wants nothing else except this. Sam surrounding him, taking him. He presses in further, still achingly slow. But that's not a bad thing, not at all.  
  
"More," Sam says.  
  
Dean moves a fraction of an inch forward, then Sam clenches Dean's ass and pulls, forcing Dean all of the way in until his balls slap against Sam. Dean gasps and tries to make his brain catch up with the sensations in his body. Never felt anything like this. Never.  
  
"So fucking good," he says. "Wanted this so bad."  
  
"Me too," Sam says, so quietly that Dean almost thinks he doesn't catch it. Then he registers, and hit rises through his body.  
  
Dean draws back and pushes into Sam again. Watching as Sam's body shudders, as he draws his legs up to drop them over Dean's hips. Does it again, again. Fucks his little brother like this is how it's supposed to be. And Sam seems to agree, based on the way he rocks with every movement Dean makes and then reaches down to tug at his cock. Dean shakes his head, replaces Sam's hand with his own. Pulls with each thrust. And it's perfect. Every single piece of this.  
  
Sam comes first, knees clenching around Dean's hips before thick, white ropes spill across his stomach and chest. That sight pulls Dean own orgasm from his body and he gapes out a "Sam" before slumping forward, pressing his body to Sam's. Doesn't care about the come smearing across his body. Wants it, even.  
  
He's not sure how long they stay there, heavy breathing mingling and the smell of bitter-sweet sweat and come surrounding them, but after a while Sam's hands move to run through Dean's hair.  
  
"Dean," he says.  
  
"Mmm?" Dean can't talk right now. Lost the ability when his dick exploded.  
  
"Man." Sam laughs. "You should've said something sooner."


End file.
